


Apartment Complex L

by readwriteandavengers



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Apartment Complex L, Every couple is represented as evenly as possible, F/F, M/M, Neighbor au, the L stands for Legends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readwriteandavengers/pseuds/readwriteandavengers
Summary: A family is sometimes more than blood. A group of people, (outsiders, misfits, the ones who find it hard to fit in) join together to form their own roots, build their own origins.Apartment Complex L (promptly nicknamed the Legends) have done just this, although they may not realize how deep their bond goes.After all... some say there’s more love in choosing your family…





	Apartment Complex L

_A family is sometimes more than blood. A group of people, (outsiders, misfits, the ones who find it hard to fit in) join together to form their own roots, build their own origins._

 

_Apartment Complex L (promptly nicknamed the Legends) have done just this, although they may not realize how deep their bond goes._

 

_After all... some say there’s more love in choosing your family…_

 

_The Legends will learn just how true this is._

 

Nate and Ray walk up towards their apartment complex, each carrying a drink in hand. They may have made their way down to the coffee shop on the corner. What they weren’t expecting to see when they got back was a moving truck parked on the curb.

 

“Oh!” Nate exclaims excitedly at the same time his hand snatches onto Ray’s arm. The excitement causes Ray to jump, nearly sloshing his warm drink out.

 

“Woops, that’s my bad,” Nate apologizes with a grimace, but then turns his excitement back towards the moving van. “These must be our new neighbors.”

 

“Oh?” Ray questions, sounding mutual on the observation. He lifts the cup to his lips, taking a sip as he and Nate get closer.

 

They round the back of the van, finding most of the things have already been taken out. There’s the exception for a few small boxes that the men in the back are trying to organize.

 

Nate hovers nosily so Ray does his job as Best Friend and tugs on Nate’s arm until he follows.

 

“We’ve been here… what? Four years?” Ray comments as they make their way inside. The two ignore the elevator and head for the stairs instead.

 

Nate hums, one step ahead of Ray as they reach the second floor.

 

“We’ve had seven different neighbors since then. _Seven_. I’m starting to wonder if there’s something wrong with us.” Ray grumbles as they enter the long hall. Their front door is on the other end.

 

“Nah,” Nate disagrees with a shake of his head. “We know the first three neighbors were completely flaky. Then the rest were pretty stable but just moved on.” Nate shrugs. “It happens.”

 

They reach their apartment, noticing that the door opposite them is wide open. There’s shuffling going on inside, and Nate was definitely correct. They’re getting new neighbors.

 

Nate works on unlocking the door, but fumbles because his eyes are not actually on the doorknob but on the open apartment behind them.

 

Ray sighs, quirking a brow at Nate. “Nate?”

 

“Right, yeah, okay,” Nate sighs as he turns his attention towards the lock. With a twist of his wrist, the front door opens and they walk inside. Ray catches his ankle on the end of the door and kicks it shut.

 

“All I’m hoping,” Nate starts as he kicks off his shoes messily and then heads for the kitchen, “is that our new neighbors are better eye candy than Mrs. Johnson and Mrs. Elbertson were.”

 

Ray laughs airily as he nicely places his shoes on the shoe mat. Then he picks up his drink and follows Nate into the kitchen.

 

“Nate,” Ray says dismissively again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the island. “They were in their nineties.”

 

“My point exactly!” Nate shoots back as he rummages through the cabinets. He finds what he’s looking for; a bag of some very unhealthy potato chips.

 

Ray immediately frowns, which Nate sees and gives a shrug in response as he opens the chips. Ray sighs, knowing he’s lost the battle of trying to convince Nate to get rid of those manufactured potato chips (this time).

 

“Do we have any chocolate chips left or did you eat them all?” Ray teases as he walks around the island to look in the cupboard.

 

Nate doesn’t respond, only chewing (loudly) through a mouthful of chips. He watches Ray push a few things around before he finally extracts a very plump bag of chocolate chips.

 

“That’s a relief. I really couldn’t remember if I finished them or not.” Nate tells Ray, popping another chip in his mouth.

 

Ray laughs heartily but begins collecting things throughout their kitchen; a square glass dish, some mixers, gluten free oat flour.

 

Ray’s going to bake.

 

Nate perks up, eyes going wide at the realization. “Oh, boy. What are we making?” Nate sets down the chips and brushes his hands on his jeans as walks around the island to join Ray. “I _love_ when we bake.”

 

“ _We_ are going to make _brownies_!” Ray smiles excitedly, especially when he hears Nate cheers.

 

“I love your brownies.” Nate admits, leaning against the counter as Ray starts to measure things out.

 

“I know,” Ray says somewhat smugly, emptying the flour into a bowl. His tone then turns as dry as the ingredients he’s handling as he looks at Nate. “You ate the entire batch last time at two in the morning.”

 

Nate opens his mouth, a defense on the tip of his tongue, but then he presses his lips together and nods solemnly. “You’re right, I’m still sorry about that. But only a little bit. Your brownies bring me too much joy.”

 

Ray’s laughing again, rolling his eyes. “Well, these are not for you. These are for the neighbors.” Ray tells him with a brow lifted in warning.

 

“Aw!” Nate whines, his shoulders slumping. “Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.” Ray stays strong as he stirs his ingredients.

 

Nate only wallows for another minute or so before he excitedly helps Ray prepare the treat. They’re finished within ten or fifteen minutes, and are finally at the part of folding in the chocolate chips into the batter.

 

Nate pre-heats the oven and Ray lays it nicely in the greased dish. By the time he’s finished, the oven dings, signifying it’s ready.

 

Ray and Nate turn to one another, some flour on their clothes, some on Ray’s cheek, and a guilty streak of chocolate on Nate’s bottom lip. They high-five, glad to have gotten the task done.

 

“Okay, I’m going to put these in,” Ray says, turning around to slide the treat into the oven.

 

Nate’s already departed, rushing over to their large window to peer down into the street.

 

“Truck’s still here,” Nate informs Ray, resting one arm on the wall and the other in his pocket.

 

Ray uses the dish towel to wipe off his hands as he comes over to join Nate at the window. Nate’s right, the truck is still parked on the street, but it appears they’re shutting the back door and about to depart.

 

Two men step away after latching the back door, then one gives a thumbs up to the driver. Standing side by side, they look like the most intimidating people Ray’s ever seen. They’re both dressed in dark colors, one’s got his head shaved while the other has his gray hair shorn short.

 

Ray and Nate watch as the two men finally turn and make their way into the apartment complex.

 

Nate tries his hardest to act nonchalant. He hovers by the window, tapping one finger against the sill, until he finally cracks with a heavy sigh.

 

Ray watches amusedly as Nate reaches the other side of the apartment. He presses his body against the front door, looking out the peephole.

 

“Nate…” Ray’s voice is softly cautious as he comes to Nate’s side.

 

“I’m just trying to get a good luck at who we’ll be living next to!” Nate defends, his hands flat against the door.

 

Ray snickers under his breath but stays a step back.

 

“Oh, here they come!” Nate whispers. He watches silently, lips parted as he breathes. “They’re right out here!” Nate whispers, although a little too loud to be considered one. “Come here!” Nate demands, waving his hand dramatically.

 

Ray wants to say no. He’d rather properly introduce himself to their neighbors. Not… awkwardly watch them from their apartment. But then again, he is curious, so he walks over and looks through the peephole when Nate moves.

 

The range of sight is minimal, but Ray can see his neighbors rather clearly. Ray’s not sure how to describe them. They’re both tall… but one is more gruff than the other. The gruffier one wears a constant scowl and has leather gloves on his hands, perhaps from moving. The other one has an _occasional_ scowl, but it does seems the one with gray hair has a permanent dip between his brow from the expression.

 

They talk for a moment before they finally step inside and shut the door. Moving is done with.

 

Ray sighs as he peels himself off of the door and moves back towards the kitchen. Nate follows.

 

“Dibs on the tall, dark and scary one.” Nate says as Ray peers on the brownies.

 

Ray can’t help the short laugh that leaves him. “I… frankly don’t know which one you’re talking about.”

 

Nate laughs with Ray, resting his back against the kitchen counter. “Yeah, I guess they were both pretty intimidating.” Nate takes a pause. “But hot.”

 

Ray shakes his head fondly.

 

“I think the grumpy bald one is hot.” Nate fills in next, crossing his arms over his form. “But hook ups would be weird.”

 

Ray waggles his finger, his eyes widening. “Nate, I really advise against hooking up with our neighbor.”

 

Nate waves him off with, pushing his lips together and making a horse-like noise. “Nothing will ever happen.” Another pause. “But _if_ it did I think I’d just roll with it.”

 

Ray tries to look stern again but it only causes both him and Nate to fall into a fit of laughter.

 

“They’re probably dating,” Nate supplies next, a light shrug following his words. “Two middle-aged guys, living in a small apartment together? Dating.”

 

“That means the same logic would apply to us.” Ray challenges with a lifted brow. “Maybe we should just… not assume anything.”

 

Nate rolls his eyes, groaning playfully. “How are you always so _thoughtful_?”

 

Ray snickers just as the alarm rings through the apartment. Ray hops forward excitedly, leaning over the oven to reset his old, white timer.

 

The oven doors open and the sweet smell of the brownies waft out. Nate groans ecstatically, watching as Ray lifts the dish out with his favorite purple, floral oven-mitts.

 

“You sure I can’t have just one little piece?” Nate leans in close, his finger suspiciously getting close to the warm chocolate dessert.

 

Ray purses his lips, his hand sneaking out of the oven-mitt just quick enough to slap Nate on the back of his hand. Nate’s hand retracts at lightning speed, as if he’d been burned, and pouts dramatically at Ray.

 

“No,” Ray scolds with a twinkle in his eye. He turns around to grab a nice, blue, polka dot hot pad, putting the brownie dish on top of that, rather than his worn, overly-used hot pad.

 

“I’m starting to think you don’t love me anymore,” Nate’s still pouting as he watches Ray put some of their dirty dishes in the sink.

 

“Your birthday is coming up. I’ll make you some then.” Ray promises. “As for now, these are for our new neighbors.”

 

Ray’s picking up the bowl that held the batter, so Nate reaches out and scoops up a large dollop. He sticks his finger in his mouth before Ray can scold him.

 

“Guess that won’t hurt,” Ray agrees as he skims his finger across the inside of the bowl. He savors the chocolate, humming to himself as he finally puts the bowl in the sink.

 

“Okay, let’s go take these deliciously… warm… chocolatey…” Ray sighs, giving Nate an empathetic look. “You’re right, I should have made two batches.”

 

Nate points at him and nods, but allows Ray to continue.

 

“Let’s go take these over before we end up eating them all.” Ray smirks, placing his hands under the hot pad and lifting up the dish.

 

Nate follows behind Ray, up until they reach the door, which is when Nate leans forward and pulls the door open. Ray gives a nod in thanks and together they step out into the hall.

 

“Here goes nothing,” Nate comments as he lifts his hand and knocks three times on the door.

 

There’s silence from the other end, which causes Ray and Nate to glimpse at each other nervously.

 

“Oh,” Ray jumps, noticing the chocolate Nate has at the corner of his mouth. He moves the brownies cautiously to one hand and uses his now free hand to wipe the chocolate off of Nate’s face.

 

Ray turns back to the door when Nate’s hand captures his chin. “You got some flour,” Nate explains as he brushes at Ray’s cheek.

 

Right as Nate’s hand falls, the door opens.

 

Both men stand in the entryway, one looking Ray and Nate over cautiously while the other glares at them.

 

“Uh, hi,” Ray says perkily. “I’m Ray and this is Nate. We’re you’re neighbors!”

 

“What do you want?” The gruff one that Nate favored grunts out.

 

“Well, we…” Ray trails off, his warm attitude diminishing at the bluntness. “We wanted to say hi with some brownies.” He then holds out his hands, trying to seem more confident.

 

The man closest to Ray, the one with the gray hair and alarming blue eyes, looks at the brownies cautiously before he finally lifts his hands. Those long fingers lay overtop of Ray’s as they pass the dish over.

 

“They’re vegan and gluten free.” Nate explains with a small wave of his hand.

 

The gruff man scoffs at that, then lifts his hand and for the first time, Nate and Ray notice the man has a beer in his hand.

 

“I’m Snart and this is Mick,” one explains, his eyes narrowing. There’s something in his tone, a certain drawl, that captures Ray’s attention. “Thanks for the brownies,” he says, although the response sounds dry.

 

Ray gives a short nod and Nate gives a tight-lipped smile. Conversation is then cut short when Snart steps back and kicks the door shut… right in Nate’s and Ray’s faces.

 

They’re stunned into silence.

 

“That… was interesting.” Nate clips, his head swiveling towards Ray.

 

Ray frowns in agreement. “I don’t think I’ll be getting that dish back.”

 

Nate’s hand clamps down on Ray’s shoulder consoling. “That’s alright, buddy. Plenty of dishes in the supermarket.”

 

Ray lets Nate guide him back towards their apartment, trying not to let the disappointment he feels ruin the rest of his day.

 

-

 

The knock on Amaya’s door comes right before noon. She’s not expecting anyone so her face pinches together in confusion as she heads towards the entryway. Another knock comes just as she flings the door open.

 

“Wally,” Amaya breathes, her confusion being replaced with a smile. Then she sees the backpack he has slung over one shoulder and the pillow he has tucked under his arm.  She feels her shoulders sag as her eyes grow sympathetic. “Oh, Wally. What happened this time?”

 

Amaya steps aside so Wally gives her a thankful smile and steps in. He heads into the living room and she follows, listening to him.

 

“It’s just hard to be around Barry sometimes. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful that he and Iris are letting me stay with them until I find a place around here but…”

 

“They’re annoying?” Amaya supplies simply, clearly amused.

 

“So. Annoying.” Wally deadpans as he falls into the comforts of the couch. He groans, leaning back and enjoying the rest.

 

“Newly weds tend to be,” Amaya adds on. She waves her hand at the living room dismissively before turning around and heading into the kitchen. “Just relax for now. I was making food. You hungry?”

 

Wally shakes his head as he runs his fingers through his hair. “Nah, I had some cereal earlier.”

 

The sentiment causes Amaya to glare at him over, and Wally can easily feel the heat all the way from the kitchen.

 

“You need more than cereal,” Amaya says resolutely. “You’re eating.”

 

Wally laughs off the exchange but puts his hands up in surrender. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Amaya smiles triumphantly and begins to mix her ingredients together. Wally can smell the garlic and fresh tomatoes in the air so he’s hoping for spaghetti.

 

Things grow quiet and Wally grows curious so he speaks up. “Where’s Zari?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Amaya’s voice is tilted up teasingly. “In her room, talking to her girlfriend.”

 

Wally grins in response, sliding to the other end of the couch. “ _Oh_ ,” he says back, equally as teasing. “Isn’t it like, super late for Gideon?”

 

“First off,” comes Zari’s voice, causing both Amaya and Wally too look up. Neither of them heard her come out of her room. “Gideon’s not my girlfriend. Secondly, she’s a grown ass woman who can decide when she should go to bed.”

 

Amaya and Wally share one look before Wally speaks up again.

 

“Zari and Gideon, sitting in a tree,” Wally sing-songs, pausing just a second to take a breath.

 

“I’ll hurt you in such a way that you won’t be able to use your vocal chords for a weak if you finish that.” Zari threatens, her demeanour serious but never actually frightening Wally. They’ve been friends for too long.

 

Regardless, Wally drops the singing and sits back against the cushions. Zari contentedly moves towards the kitchen, taking a deep breath in.

 

“Mmm, that smells amazing,” she compliments, coming to join Amaya.

 

“You think so?” Amaya brings up a wooden spoon, lifting it out for Zari to sample. She does so easily, leaning forward and hesitantly tasting the sauce.

 

“ _Mmm_ ,” Zari stresses, impressed with Amaya’s cooking. “Seriously, that might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

 

Wally watches the exchange, a small smile on his face. Watching the two interact is absolutely fascinating, and not that he’s _trying_ to sound like his Professor Stein, but it’s true! The two hold feelings for one another, built off of an understanding so deep, that it’s as if neither Zari or Amaya realize how far past platonic they are.

 

Wally won’t be the one to break it to them. He’ll just sit back and wait until they figure it out themselves.

 

“By the way, I wanted to tell you that I really like what you’ve done with your hair.” Amaya shoots back, starting a chain of compliments.

 

Zari scoffs, looking at Amaya disbelievingly. That then starts a whole (horribly domestic and cute) argument about who’s hair is better, who does hair best, how cute Zari looks with her hair curly, and so forth, to the point that Wally starts to think he’ll be surrounded by love birds until the day he dies. On his tombstone they’ll write _‘Here lies Wally West, the strongest, most reliable third wheel to have ever lived.’_

 

Wally might doze off on their couch until he’s gently awoken by Amaya’s hand on his shoulder. Then they sit down and enjoy dinner around the table, which has Wally feeling… nostalgic.

 

A few movies and several bowls of popcorn later, they call it a night. Amaya heads to her room and Zari moves to her own quarters as well, leaving Wally in the living room with the small snowman-shaped night-light giving it a soft glow.

 

Wally falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

 

-

 

Sara and Rip live up on the fourth floor, which means it’s not every day they make out of the apartment complex for an early morning walk. Today is one of the rare occurrences in which they joined each other on the sidewalk, shortly after eight in the morning, and decided to go on a jaunt.

 

It wasn’t a very long jaunt. They went to the coffee shop on the corner, the one that most of their fellow neighbors go to, but it was still a task they completed and are therefore proud of finally going on a walk.

 

They’re already on their way back, with the morning sun warming their shoulders. Both have already adorned their respective pair of sunglasses.

 

“So,” Rip says after a particularly long sip on his iced coffee. “Seen Ava lately?”

 

Sara’s head swivels in his direction, glaring at him over the top of her glasses. “No,” she stresses, “I have not.”

 

Rip shrugs nonchalantly. “No, but then again, I wasn’t the one that made out with her.”

 

“I know,” Sara speaks clearly, each syllable coming out strongly. “That’s because it was _me_ , and you won’t let me forget it. It was a few months ago and Ava’s pretending like it never happened, so the least I can do is give her the courtesy to try and forget it.”

 

Rip rolls his eyes as they reach their building. They step back inside, back into the wonderful AC. Both of their keys rattle as they move to their mailboxes.  

 

“Maybe she thinks _you’re_ trying to forget about it and she’s trying to give you that courtesy. But in reality it’s probably all you two have been able to think about since that night happened.” Rip posits as he looks into his empty mailbox and locks it again.

 

“You know what you need?” Sara clips as she takes her mail under her arm. “A roommate. It’s been a year since Gideon left.”

 

Rip quirks a brow at the sudden inquisition. “And why would me having or not having a roommate affect you?”

 

“Because,” Sara sighs as she closes her mailbox. “Maybe then you’d be too busy with your roommate to worry about my love life.”

 

Rip rolls his eyes as they hover, not quite willing to head back up to their apartments yet.

 

“I’m not interested in your love life. You’re my friend so I’m trying to help you not be so idiotic when it comes to blonde haired women you specifically have a crush on.” Rip shoots back, eyes narrowing behind his glasses.

 

He can tell Sara’s eyes narrow too as she leans forward.

 

“You need a roommate,” Sara challenges.

 

Rip opens his mouth, prepared to argue, but a voice interrupts him.

 

“Rip, you’re looking for a roommate?”

 

Both Sara and Rip glimpse up to find Zari standing a few steps behind. She’s with Amaya, and a younger man that Rip hasn’t seen before. They appear to have just gotten off the elevator, and while Zari looks purely curious, Amaya and the young man look utterly embarrassed.

 

“Uh,” Amaya starts, offering an apologetic smile towards Rip and Sara. “I think what Zari means to say is ‘Hey, good morning, Sara and Rip. I don’t mean to pry but did I hear you say you were looking for a roommate?’” At the end of her words, Amaya casts Zari a very pointed look.

 

“No…” Zari trails off confusedly. “I-” She stops short because Amaya’s gaze hardens. Zari turns back to Sara and Rip, offering a crooked smile. “Yeah, she’s right. That’s exactly what I meant to say.”

 

Rip feels his lips part, realizing that it’s now his turn to respond to this very sudden addition to his and Sara’s conversation.

 

“I, uh, suppose I am,” Rip answers, surprising even himself. The idea of a roommate may have been a passing thought here and there, but he never intended to take the idea seriously.

 

Zari’s smile widens, revealing her gorgeous white teeth. She reaches behind and grabs onto the young man’s shoulders. “Wally meet Rip. Rip meet Wally. Wally recently moved here and is looking for a quiet place away from his sister and brother-in-law. He’s very musical, does dishes like no other, and is one of the most dependable people I know.”

 

Rip’s frozen throughout Zari’s little speech, and _remains_ frozen a few moments after. That is until he realizes everyone is  expecting him to say something. “Ah, right,” he smiles awkwardly, “Hello.”

 

Wally laughs, his smile just as awkward as Rip’s. He gives Zari a pointed look to _be quiet_ as he steps forward. He meets the man’s gaze, who he has _just_ learned is named Rip, and tries to offer a genuine smile as he offers his hand.

 

Rip takes it, listening as Wally speaks.

 

“I think she forgot to say that I love long walks on the beach, I listen to George Michael a little too much for my own good, and I’ve got a pretty cute butt.” Wally’s tone is light, teasing Zari’s bluntness since she did make it sound like he was a human advertisement, but he can’t help the blush that rises to his cheeks when he watches Rip’s brows dance up at the last statement. Maybe it’s a little too early to joke about his butt.

 

“Nice to meet you, Wally,” Rip says in return, the corner of his mouth quirking up for a brief second.

 

They stand there, hands still conjoined until Sara finally elbows Rip in the side and clears her throat loudly.

 

Wally ducks his head, trying to hide his laugh when he sees realization dawn on Rip’s face.

 

“Oh, right, uh…” he trails off, eyes going distant as he tries to think of something to say. In the meantime, his hand keeps Wally’s captive. “I play guitar. Some people don’t like that. Not because I play poorly. I think it’s the noise?”

 

Rip’s eyes glaze over to Sara and she gives him a reassuring nod so he continues.

 

“I eat an unhealthy amount of frozen dinners. I’m in my pajamas most of the time… and I don’t like visitors.” Rip tacks on, giving Wally an awkwardly tight smile before he _finally_ lets go of Wally’s hand. It’s not that Wally minded the contact, it’s just that… well, Wally’s hand was starting to sweat and he did _not_ want Rip thinking Wally has sweaty palms.

 

“I don’t mind guitar playing one bit, so how about I give you my number and if you decide you want a roommate you can call me up?” Wally’s brows tilt up together, smiling as he waits hopefully.

 

Rip nods, his hands falling to grope at his pockets until he finally reaches his phone. He gives Wally another pursed-lip smile as he hands over his phone.

 

Wally laughs off the tension he feels, what with having not only Zari and Amaya watching the interaction but Sara too. He enters his number, then adds a few emojis after it because it seems fitting. (He adds the sparkling heart, a sunflower, and the shooting stars just _because_ ). Then he hands the device back over to Rip with a stronger smile.

 

Rip smiles and Wally smiles… and they hover because the interaction feels incomplete. The two feel utterly uncomfortable, but Sara, Zari, and Amaya don’t seem bothered in the slightest.

 

Finally, Wally sighs and leans in so he can say what he feels needs to be said.

 

“Sorry about Zari,” Wally whispers, watching as Rip’s eyes light up amusedly. “She’s just like that.”

 

“Hey!” Zari argues.

 

Apparently even Wally’s whispers carry in the hallway. Then again, Zari and Amaya are one step behind him.

 

“It’s okay,” Rip whispers back, his eyes falling down to meet Wally’s. “I’m quite familiar with Miss Tomaz’s social behavior.”

 

Wally laughs under his breath and he hears Rip laugh too and something about it causes all of their previous awkwardness to be whisked away.

 

Wally shakes his head as he schools his laughter, looking back up to meet Rip’s gaze. “No harsh feelings if I don’t get a call. You _were_ kind of cornered.”

 

Rip’s smile widens and Wally can see this smile is _genuine_.

 

“It was nice meeting you, Wally,” Rip says earnestly, offering his hand again. Wally takes it with a short laugh, and Rip grimaces as they shake hands again. “I apologize I had kept your hand captive before.”

 

Their hands drop and Wally takes a step back, feeling better about his day.

 

“Alright, looks like we should be on our way,” Amaya says sweetly, flashing both Sara and Rip a smile. “See you guys around.”

 

Amaya places one hand on Wally’s shoulder and the other on the small of Zari’s back, guiding both of them away. Once they _think_ they’re out of ear shot, they start murmuring, but there are a few things heard. Such as: _I think that went well!_ from Zari, and _Way to put me out on a platter, Zee,_ from Wally. Lastly, they hear Amaya say: _Zari, how many times do I have to tell you that people don’t appreciate you butting into their private conversations?_ before they three are finally out of hearing range.

 

Rip turns to Sara now that they’re finally alone, a brow already quirked.

 

Sara throws her hands up into the air. “Hey, I for one think it’s a great idea. Wally’s a genuinely pure soul. I don’t think you could find a better roommate.”

 

Rip tucks his mail under the same arm that his satchel is slung over. He and Sara start to make their way to the elevator.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Rip tells her as they step into the lift. And he does. He thinks about it after she steps onto the third floor, leaving him alone to ride up to his floor. He thinks about it as he swings his door shut and discards his satchel beside the couch and the mail on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t think much about Wally during dinner, but then he spots the dishes in the sink and his mind is occupied once again with the thought of possibly taking on a roommate after all.

 

Rip’s not a messy person. There are just things he prefers not to do. Like hanging up his coat on the coat rack. It’s more at place slung over the back of the recliner, off to the side. He prefers not to do dishes, but he’ll cave once the pile becomes too high. He _despises_ cleaning out the fridge.

 

He wonders what Wally doesn’t like. What kind of compromises would the two come to?

 

Rip misses the feeling of having someone around. Even if he’s sat in his own room, knowing that someone is just down the hall is a huge relief. He also misses shared moments; watching a movie together, eating breakfast together, deciding to go grocery shopping together.

 

Gideon moved out almost a year ago and Rip’s finally realizing how much he missed companionship.

 

He sighs as he plops down in the middle of his couch, one beer in hand and his phone in the other. Hours have passed, and by now it’s late afternoon.

 

Curiosity gets the better of him so Rip finds himself searching for Wally’s contact. He sees the name all the way at the bottom, a grin gracing his features when he sees the unnecessary emoji’s Wally’s added. Wally’s the… only person to ever have emojis added to their contact name. The realization causes a strange feeling to spring in Rip’s stomach, but he’s not sure what it is so he pushes it down and ignores it for now.

 

Rip clicks on the name and starts to compose a message.

 

_From: Rip  
_ _5:46PM_

_Hey, it’s Rip Hunter. Is this Wally?_

 

Rip’s thumb overs over the send button, but finally he rolls his eyes and decides _what the hell_?

 

He waits… and maybe two minutes later he gets a response. Rip likes speedy responses.

 

_From: Wally  
_ _5:48PM_

_The one and only :) Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon… or at all._

 

Rip feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. He lifts his beer, takes a drink, and then writes his reply.

 

_From: Rip  
_ _5:50PM_

_Let’s just say you’ve made a good impression. I was hoping we could go over a few things? see how compatible we are as roommates…_

 

Again, Rip gets a response almost instantaneously. Wally’s agreed. So the game begins.

 

The questions start off simple, but Rip ends up learning a lot about Wally. He learns that Wally’s new around these parts but moved closer towards family after his mom died. His sister is Iris West, who’s married to Barry Allen. Rip haven’t met the two but those names are shared around town enough that he knows who they are. Famous crimes journalist Iris West and best CSI Barry Allen.

 

Rip learns that Wally cares for his sister deeply but has grown sick of listening to her and Barry’s arguments… and the time they spend making it up to one another later.

 

His and Wally’s humor seems to click together nicely, and that’s definitely a plus. Somehow, Rip feels completely at ease sending messages back and forth with Wally. Before he realizes it, hours have passed and it’s almost eleven o’clock.

 

_From: Rip  
_ _11:01PM_

_So I’m throwing the ball into your court. Would you want to move in?_

 

Rip lets the phone fall beside him, his eyes growing heavy from the day’s labor. He’s nearly drifted off when he hears his phone buzz. Lazily, his hand grips onto the phone and he reads the response with a narrowed gaze.

 

 _From: Wally_ _  
_ _11:11PM_

_Lol, you sure you don’t want to sleep on it before you let me move into your home?_

 

Rip rolls his eyes before typing back.

 

_From: Rip  
_ _11:12PM_

_I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve thought about it enough. My offer stands_.

 

Rip hits send and then his head falls back and he’s drifting off again. He’s actually managed to fall to sleep when the message comes through.

 

_From: Wally  
_ _11:32PM_

_I’ll take you up on that then. Guess this means we’re roommates._

 

Rip feels himself exhale as his fingers click against the screen.

 

_From: Rip  
_ _11:34PM_   


_So we are. I’m sleeping as I type this so bed’s a good idea. I’ll message you tomorrow about setting a date for you to move in._

 

Rip doesn’t wait for a reply. He tucks his phone in his pocket, then pushes himself up from the couch and heads for bed. He manages to get himself tucked under the covers before he completely succumbs to sleep.


End file.
